White Lie
by ReadingAddictWeirdo
Summary: "Carlos struggled to breathe as he let out the sobs he'd been holding in, clawing at the blonde's back for proof that he was actually there, real and solid, and not an illusion that would poof away in an instant and leave him alone in the surrounding darkness that held nothing but terror and danger." Kendall/Carlos.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Big Time Rush.

**Warning: **Contains slash, smut, cursing, implied rape. Kendall/Carlos. (Italics = Flashback)

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**A/N:** Hi, everyone. I have returned from the dead. Okay, no, not really… I've just been busy with college; but that's not a proper excuse, is it?

Anyway, I guess this story can (kind of) make up for my long-term absence. Enjoy!

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**White Lie**

The fear inside him was like a preying wolf, waiting eagerly for the moment when he would cry out for someone, _anyone_. His cheeks were stained with salty tears, praying in his mind that it would end once and for all, or—that it was all a dream. Yet the way _he_ touched him again and again was all too real; his lips were greedy and hungry, marking every inch of his caramel skin. Even if he did scream, he recalled that a bandana was covering his mouth, muffling every word and noise. He could taste the cloth, feel the texture with his tongue; it was tasteless and soft. But everything that was happening to him at the moment destroyed that bit of comfort; all he tasted now was salt and blood, almost retching at the mix of the two repulsive flavours, and all he felt was the hard grip of those hands all over his body and the rough contact of skin on skin. And then—it was over. Or, at least he thought. Bit by bit his innocence was eradicated by that sticky fluid that seemed to shoot endlessly into him. Carlos breathed in heavily through his nose as he prepared for a shriek that would drain his lungs out of every bit of drop of oxygen they contained, and hopefully break through the sound barrier of the bandana. Except when he did, he choked on a spurt of blood, red coating the bandana, browning its purple colour. The anticipated pain never came because he was suddenly waking up in a pool of cold sweat, and not blood.

"James!" he shouted, desperately wanting some kind of comfort from one of his friends. Obviously, the brunette was the closest, having a shared a room with him.

Carlos' sight was blurry, preventing him from seeing who it was that was rushing towards him. He screamed as he scurried backwards to furthest edge of the bed, causing for him to fall on the floor, into the corner of the wall. His body quivered terribly as the figure put an arm around him and took him into a protective hug. That's when the Latino recognized the touch, by the way _he_ held him. Carlos' vision cleared, and he saw that James was sound asleep on his bed, the side of his face buried into the pillow, strands of hair sticking out this way and that, a string of saliva hanging at the corner of his mouth, and right there it had become evident that it was Kendall who was comforting him, guarding him from all harm.

Carlos struggled to breathe as he let out the sobs he'd been holding in, clawing at the blonde's back for proof that he was actually there, real and solid, and not an illusion that would poof away in an instant and leave him alone in the surrounding darkness that held nothing but terror and danger. But he was there, murmuring things that managed to calm the Latino a bit. Then they were pulling away from each other when the light suddenly turned on, and James was looking at them with a look that read 'What the heck is going on, and why are you guys awake at one in morning, hugging each other like someone's about to kill you?' Then James questioned out loud, and Carlos opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a broken cry. He was taken into the blonde's arms again, being rocked and rocked until it seemed like hours later that he fell asleep again, in Kendall's safe hold.

**ooo**

"I thought there was a ghost haunting my room. What happened? Why was Carlos crying? I mean, we share the same room and I've never seen him like this, and–"

"James. Chill out. I know you're freaked out, but–"

"Freaked out? _Freaked out?_ James Diamond does _not_ freak out." The hazel-eyed boy crossed his arms, puffing his cheeks in a manner that denoted he was offended by the comment.

"You kind of _are_ right n–"

"Did something happen to him?" James persisted. "I don't know of anything that–"

"Nothing happened, James," retorted Kendall, upset at the taller boy's vocabulary because he himself didn't have a_ single damn clue_ either.

But that was just it. Carlos had told him about the nightmares; they had started at the beginning of the month, and he'd seen the horror in the small boy's face; but the strangest and scariest part—there was no cause to it. The nightmares had arrived without a warning one day, in the middle of night, and at two in the morning he'd woken up, screaming Kendall's name, and the blonde boy had jumped out of bed at the first call, nearly tripping along the way. The whole house had woken up that day. Carlos had stayed quiet about it afterwards, managing to convince everyone that it had been a onetime unfortunate event—all except for Kendall. He worriedly contemplated over and over again, _What if something did happen to Carlos, and he hasn't told me?_ He let himself drift away from those thoughts, knowing that Carlos would never lie to him. That boy wasn't even capable of white lies that Kendall couldn't catch right through his gritted teeth.

James looked at him, hard and determined. "Kendall."

"Look, James, why don't you stick to what you do best? Worry about yourself, and leave Carlos to me."

"We're best friends, Kendall, you know that," said James solemnly, a little hurt.

Kendall sighed. James could be a huge narcissist most of the time, but he had feelings, too. "Yeah, I know. Look, this whole thing, it's—it's just temporary. It'll go away soon. I'm his boyfriend, and I'll be there for him. So–"

James put his hands up, palms and fingers erect, admitting defeat. "Fine. But I was being serious when I said that you guys scared the crap out of me. I almost screamed when I heard someone crying, but figured I shouldn't, or else the ghost or murderer or whatever would kill me." Kendall laughed, though it was sort of difficult when the last words affected him so much. And the worst part was he didn't know _why_. It was _something_ about them, not the way James said them, but the hidden meaning behind them that only he seemed to distinguish, amplified by the chills and goosebumps that ran up and down his spine, the hair on his neck and arms standing straight up. "Anyway, there's this awesome fair today a couple miles away from here. And you know, fairs equals fun, equals girls. So if you need me—don't. I'll be busy getting ready."

Kendall watched the brunette walk away and into his room, listening for the slam that meant James had entered the bathroom. He licked his lips, wondering what to do next. Carlos was sound asleep in his room, needing the rest he'd lost. No one questioned the raven's ample amounts of sleep throughout the day for the past month, nor his red eyes. Everyone figured it was because he was too fatigued due to his continuous habit of performing stupid stunts. It was regular old Carlos in everyone else's eyes. Kendall, on the other hand, knew all too well what was going on, and not much was; and at the same time a lot was; or he didn't actually know _what the hell_, and accepting the reality of it would be too alarming. Rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans, he then reached for the controller and turned the television on.

The sound blared from the speakers, making Kendall jump in his seat. He turned the volume down immediately, actually glad for once the raven was an extremely heavy sleeper. Ever since Carlos' nightmare troubles took over Kendall's everyday thoughts, he hadn't had any time for himself or anything else, for that matter, and currently watching the people on the screen talk to each other casually, or joke about something nonsensical, made him feel guilty. He should be in the room with the raven, sitting at the edge of the bed to make sure he wouldn't wake up without the blonde there and go berserk. Kendall mentally slapped himself, reminding himself that he was one room away from Carlos, and he needn't to stress about it. He thumbed the numbered buttons on the controller, indecisive of which numbers to press, which channel to watch that would take his mind off—whatever this was. He didn't even know what to call it. Insomnia? No. It didn't fit well within the context of the matter.

He settled for a random three-number combination, and ended up on a movie channel. The film was barely beginning, stating various names that had been part of its fabrication, and five minutes later there was a close up shot of someone's eye. Grey and dead-like, something was glinting off the single eye, and when it zoomed out, Kendall found out it was a girl's. She was sitting in a classroom, the reason as to why her stare was ridiculously dull; too dull that she looked like a zombie. It was all a part of acting, Kendall understood, and part of acting was exaggerating every emotion to make it seem real. The shot zoomed out more to reveal a few other dozen kids with a teacher talking in front of the classroom, her back to her students as she wrote numbers and signs on the chalkboard. The title popped up on the very center, each letter a dark red, smeared at every corner.

"A horror movie," he said to himself.

From the design of the title, he figured it was those psychological types, the main character usually being the victim of some sort of mind fuck, and a person they were close with—whether a friend, relative, or enemy—was the anonymous root of the problem. His only plans for the day consisted of staying with Carlos, and so he decided on watching the movie. He stood to pop a bag of popcorn, careful to be extremely quiet. When he was done, he sat back on the couch and began shoving handfuls of buttered popcorn in his mouth. The grey-eyed girl's name was Federica; European, small-framed, paranoid. Kendall inwardly groaned when the first few characters talked in Spanish, realizing that he would be totally clueless in terms of dialogue. Nevertheless, he didn't change the channel, hoping to grasp some type of understanding based on the scenes.

Halfway into the movie, after James had already left, Kendall hadn't noticed that he'd emotionally absorbed himself in it, for he was interacting with the characters—mostly yelling at them. He didn't notice either when the Latino opened the door and stared at him through the small crack, quirking an eyebrow at the blonde's strange behaviour. Carlos slowly nudged the door open, stepped out, then closed it until it bumped against the frame. Carlos tilted his head to the side, raising his eyes to see the movie in action, guessing that this was the reason why the blonde was yelling at the television, where there was a grey-eyed girl who was standing in a dimly lit room. She smiled hesitantly, and then a shot of another person came into view, of a man at least five years older than her returning the smile.

He pinned the girl to a wall, cackling and whispering malignant sentences. Carlos cringed at the strangled cries that followed; everything was awfully similar to his nightmares, as if some sadistic producer had taken them and merged them together into a movie. A string of mumbled 'No's' slipped out of Carlos' mouth, and as soon as they took on a louder volume, Kendall's head whipped around to find the raven shaking his head madly in his hands, eyes tightly closed. In a flash, Kendall jumped over the couch and captured the small boy in a tight embrace, repeatedly apologizing.

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry, Carlos. I-I didn't know–"

"Turn it off, please. Please, Kendall," said Carlos in that broken voice of his.

And Kendall willingly did. Arm still wrapped around the raven's shoulder, he guided them both to the couch, sweeping his hand across the couch to grab the controller, and turned off the television, the grey-eyed girl disappearing behind a screen of black. Thirty minutes later, Carlos was, once again, taking a nap when Kendall gently shook his shoulder, the blonde hoping not to startle him too much. Thankfully, Carlos awoke with a tiny jump, heart slowing down to a regular beat when he saw Kendall's familiar face. He gave a puzzled look when the blonde signaled for him to stand up. Hesitantly, he grabbed his boyfriend's outstretched hand, and let him guide him into his and James' shared room. Kendall wanted to _talk_; Carlos knew by the way he closed the door. He didn't want anyone to know, despite the fact that everyone was absent from the house at this hour. Mrs. Knight had joined Logan on a trip to a museum convention about abstract art; James, evidently, had left for a fair to meet girls; and Katie had an affair with a group of poker players at the park.

"Why–"

"Carlos, sit on the bed."

"What?" Carlos subconsciously shuddered at the words.

"I mean, uh," the blonde rubbed his neck, annoyed by the way his words had come out. "I meant to say sit down—because we need to talk." Kendall paused when he thought he heard Carlos sigh, then resumed, "About your nightmares."

Carlos relaxed slightly, walking to his bed and sitting down, Kendall taking a seat next to him. "What about it?" he muttered uninterestedly.

Kendall looked shocked. "What do you mean 'What about it'? This is serious, Carlos. These nightmares are making you _cry_. Isn't that enough reason to tell me about them?" Carlos looked away, refusing to respond. "Please, Carlos. I love you, and I'm willing to help you if you let me. Remember the first day? You didn't sleep right after. I had to stay with you all night, awake. It's been almost a whole month, and you haven't…actually told me _about_ them."

"You really love me?" mumbled Carlos indifferently.

This shocked Kendall further more. "Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?"

"And you're willing to help me?"

"Carlos, why are you–"

"Okay. I'll tell you about my nightmares…" With that he closed the gap between them. Carlos let Kendall's body relax before he began moving his lips against the blonde's, biting his bottom lip. Kendall pulled back for a second to mumble the raven's name, wondering where in the heck the conversation had turned to, and if he was going to get an answer. Carlos shook his head, and finished his previous sentence with 'Later. I want _this_ right now' before he mashed his lips back to the taller boy's.

Carlos' stubbornness had fully kicked in now. As much as Kendall wanted to know, as much as he wanted to help him, _as much_ as he felt uncomfortable doing this sort of thing in such an unsuitable time, in the end he complied with the raven's wants, simply because there was no other choice when Carlos' hormones would take over. To Kendall, it was ironic, but that was how the Latino's brain worked: capricious and tenacious. Kendall licked Carlos' bottom lip, access granted when Carlos opened his mouth. His teeth briefly clashed against Carlos' before he smoothed out the movement, teasingly sliding his tongue into the wet cavern. In effect, Carlos wrapped his arms around the blonde's neck, pulling him closer and closer before the kiss became unpleasant. Kendall moaned as he squeezed Carlos' hips, letting him know that he wanted for him to stop and let him go, but the raven didn't comply, worsening the circumstances. Kendall was beginning to think Carlos had applied super glue to his lips before the kiss, since breaking away was virtually impossible. It was not until Kendall felt like he was about to die from a lack of oxygen that Carlos finally separated himself from him. The blonde was gasping for air whereas Carlos was letting out little casual pants, eyes lidded as if he hadn't experienced near death right then. Or maybe that just applied to Kendall.

"What–"

He was interrupted by another kiss. And another. Butterfly kisses all over his face and neck, and his chest when his shirt was taken off. Carlos' eyes were a glazed brown when he stopped to look at Kendall, whose face was flushed red. "Kendall," he said in a honey-sweet voice, "I love you, too." But the _way_ he said those three words suggested that there was something wrong; something so,_ so wrong _in them, so—unacceptable, _immoral_. Carlos smiled, ignoring the stunned look on Kendall's face, and slipped his own shirt, pants and boxers off, exposing every inch of himself.

"Carlos, I–"

"Shh," Carlos put a finger to Kendall's lips, silencing him. "You've done this to me so many times, Kendall. Why do you look surprised? It shouldn't be any different." Kendall blinked, realizing that Carlos was pretending the nightmares and previous conversation had never occurred. He was messing with him—or Carlos didn't want him to worry. But that's all Kendall could do.

_It shouldn't be any different_. Carlos' words ran through Kendall's head with lightning-fast speed, giving him a headache. He repeated in his mind that it absolutely shouldn't be; but there was this feeling of uneasiness that kept coming back—but he didn't dare admit it out loud. And also, because he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong. They were on Carlos' bed, alone, about to make love, like any other couple would do when they were immensely in love with each other. No. This was different. They weren't exchanging affectionate words like they would do in this occasion, or touch each other passionately first and then work their way into the erotic part; it was all on the surface, an action without a reason beneath to support it. _Fucking_—that was the appropriate term. Kendall anxiously considered: if he should be intimidated, if he should tell Carlos they should stop, if he should just—stop freaking out over nothing because this is how he was, in all his holy Carlosness. Carlos' emotions were fickle, capable of changing in the blink of an eye by his impulsive nature. This was _natural_.

Natural meaning he didn't know what the heck the raven was doing.

Natural meaning Kendall was totally freaking out.

Natural meaning—_not this_.

"No. Stop, Carlos, stop. This isn't– We shouldn't do this right now. We need to talk about your–"

"What's there to talk about?"

"No, no, no," mumbled Kendall, irritated with Carlos' ignorance. Something was definitely going on with the boy, and he didn't want to tell him. "If something happened—if someone _hurt_ you, you have to tell me." Kendall's voice broke, "I'll kill that bastard–"

"Bastard?"

"What else would–"

"They're just nightmares, Kendall," said Carlos sharply. "They're scary. I don't like scary stuff. That's it. There's nothing else to it."

_Liar, liar, pants on fire_.

The raven's voice softened, "But you said you loved me, so you'll protect me from those scary nightmares until they go away…right?"

"Yeah…" said Kendall dryly.

Carlos nodded happily. And then he was pulling the blonde into a kiss for the fourth time. Oh so subtly, he pulled on the blonde's pajama and boxer elastics, sliding the fabrics down and away from his body, throwing them on the floor. Carlos' skin was hot under Kendall's touch, burning with a ravenous heat that made waves of lust rush over the blonde's body. Kendall's breath was shallow on Carlos' chin, running his hands along the sides of Carlos' hips, loving how they curved in the middle, and widened towards the end. He _loved_ it.

He loved it so much that he forgot about what he was thinking before all this. Now, the only words in his mind were whirring noisily, _Fuck it, fuck it all_, and incessantly. Carlos' hair brushed against his neck, the feathery spikes tickling his skin. Kendall looked at the boy he loved in the eyes, wanting and yearning, getting the idea of what he wanted—of what they _both_ wanted. He crawled off the bed, bare feet stepping on his and the raven's scattered clothes as he searched for the bottle of lubricant. Moments later he returned with it and something else in his hand: a condom. Carlos looked at it, scowling, before he yanked it from his boyfriend's hand and threw it across the room with such force. Kendall turned his head from the place the condom had landed at to Carlos' emotionless face.

"What…was that?"

"What was what?"

"You snatched the condom out of my hand and threw it across the room. What was that for?"

"I don't see the point in it," retorted Carlos. Kendall didn't like that tone of voice at all, but Carlos kept using it as he continued in a hushed voice, "There wasn't last time."

"What?" blurted Kendall, confused.

"I mean, if you love me so much, you'll let me feel you. The real you," said Carlos, smiling innocently. "Now, if we can…"

He took the bottle of lubricant, popped the cap open, and let a spoonful of the liquid accumulate in his palm. The substance was cold and thick, slipping viscously through his fingers. Once he was done he closed the cap and placed the bottle on the nightstand. He rubbed his hands together, humming low in his throat as he smeared the lubricant all over his palms first. Carlos smiled uneasily as he bended over, and slid a finger across Kendall's hipbone. The blonde jerked in surprise, but Carlos held him steady, bowing his head, giving the illusion that he was going to suck the boy off. Rather, he wrapped a hand around Kendall's cock, stroking it leisurely. Kendall was breathing hard as Carlos picked up speed. Without warning, the Latino's fingernails dug at the bottom, right by his balls. A few droplets of blood slipped out of the fresh cuts, shaping into tiny spheres that rolled onto Carlos' fingertips, painting them a dark rose colour.

Kendall grunted, frustrated, not paying attention to his wounds, but instead rationalizing as to why Carlos was acting like this; why he'd—changed into another character, _again_. Within one month he shifted from a ray of sunshine to a mass of tormenting dreams and uncontrollable weeping to plain _what the fuck is going on with him now_. Kendall shivered internally. He didn't have time to voice his many thoughts, overall, because Carlos had ceased what he'd been doing, and was suddenly throwing him down with such force that he heard his back give off a semi-sickening _pop_ when it hit the blue sheets. Carlos, without hesitance, threw his legs over the fairer boy's hips, roughly straddling him, and the next second he was sitting on Kendall's dick, ass pressing down on the blonde's thighs. Carlos rolled his hips teasingly, feeling the thick length rub deliciously against his walls. His pace quickened, rocking faster and harder, whimpering in pain when Kendall's cock ground harshly into his sweet spot. Kendall was reciprocating the feeling, yet he was also desperately trying to get a hold of Carlos' hips to get him to settle down, but the raven kept going.

Tangled noises of half moans and half sobs were eliciting from Carlos' mouth. Kendall was gasping, begging for Carlos to stop, that his dick felt like it was about to split in half, but the boy didn't listen and kept fucking himself on the blonde's cock. Carlos then threw his head back and began bouncing, gripping the sheets beneath him. Kendall groaned in agony and ecstasy, feeling the raven's walls around him, impossibly tight. _And then it was over. _Carlos' hips stuttered before he was coming all over Kendall's stomach, and then fell on top of him. Kendall groaned, bothered by the fact that Carlos didn't let him finish. Using all his strength he pushed the boy off him and rolled him on his back. Kendall aligned himself against the boy's hole and thrust in, laying a hand on Carlos' rising and falling chest to steady himself. All the while, he lowered his head and bit the boy's neck, sucking on all his sensitive spots. Carlos choked out a gasp when Kendall thrust in one last time, hard and forceful, and spilled inside the sensitive boy, filling him up to the brim.

And just like that, after that short, intense, euphoric feeling, Kendall snapped back to reality, back to his senses. The first thing he saw was Carlos, sprawled underneath him; then his neck, blemished with deep teeth marks, a hand-shaped purple bruise on his chest, his hole red and loose and dirty, cum smeared all over his thighs; and lastly his eyes. They were filled with those tears that Kendall had come to know so well. Carlos was still limp, but a low giggle resonated from him. He turned his head, eyes looking up at Kendall's pale face.

"What's wrong, Kendall?" The blonde remained silent.

"I–I…" Kendall was speechless.

"You still want to talk about my nightmares?" Carlos' expression was a mix of cockiness, distress, and bluntness.

"They… I'm…" Kendall mumbled incoherently, burying his face in his hands, coming to the horrible realization that every sensual disagreement, suggestion, and question that Carlos had uttered during the sex, they were the very sensual disagreements, suggestions, and questions that Kendall had said that night, altered into a Carlos version full of truth and resentment. Burning flashes of once-suppressed memories coursed through his head rapidly. Carlos had made an effort to keep the incidents of that night hidden, and not burst and rip Kendall's conscious apart. But Kendall's probing had been enough to make Carlos break; as a result, the blonde had received the answer in the most impacting way. "I never meant it. I-I wasn't thinking straight and– _Why? _Why, Carlos?" demanded Kendall, enraged at himself for turning into a complete and utter bastard, and at Carlos for not telling him he was a complete and utter bastard who'd practically stripped him off his innocence. "_Why didn't you stop me?_"

Carlos sat up, face burning with shame, looking away from Kendall's raging emeralds. The lust, the happiness from before, was gone. His voice was filled with a deep sorrow as he spoke, "Everyone says I'm stupid. Stupid Carlos who doesn't know how to tell wrong from right. Or is it right from wrong? See? That's what I mean!"

"Carlos…don't say that. If it's anyone's fault…it's mine," said Kendall indignantly.

Carlos' head was still turned away, but he could see Kendall's face from the corner of his eye; his lips were pressed together in a firm line, eyes wide. Carlos grinned sadly. "Don't worry. The pain is almost gone. The nightmares won't last forever."

"Don't you dare say that!" shouted Kendall. "I did something so horrible. And what we did just now… I can't… How the hell can you…"

"I don't like it when you're sad or angry, Kendall."

Kendall cringed. He mentally empathized with Carlos for the second time that day. Carlos hated it when someone was upset, and he always tried his best to cheer up the other person. But this had gone too far for anything to be able to be mended anymore; they had both gone through hell and back. "I-I _forced_ you. You could've punched or kicked me, but you just—took it. Like it didn't matter that I was hurting you! Why didn't you stop me…?" he repeated.

A sad smile crept up on the raven's lips, voice low and strained, "Because that was the first time…you told me you loved me."

_James and Logan had stayed at the party, whereas Carlos had to leave, quite bummed out that his fun time was over; this time definitely, since he wouldn't hear the end of it if Mrs. Knight found out that Kendall had gotten wasted and Carlos hadn't even bothered to stop him from taking those first dozen shots for the sole fact that he, _sort of_, had been dancing with another guy. But hey, he blamed it on the alcohol's side effects, even though he'd only had a third of a bottle. In consequence, he'd had to drag a drunken Kendall to the car by his feet._

_Before he inserted the key into the ignition, he was pinned to his seat by a pair of big hands. The smell of Kendall's breath was strong; it was sour and bitter, the awful product of a hundred shots of tequila and vodka and whiskey mixed together. "Dude, I–"_

_"Carlos, the party hasn't ended yet. Why are we in the car?"_

_"You've drunken too much already. We need to go home."_

_"But it's so fun. And—oh, you smell so good, babe."_

_"Okay, thanks, Kenny, but I have to start the car, so let me go."_

_"Mmm, I don't think so. I'm having fun right now. More fun than what I was having in there." He pointed lazily at the club building, its windows showing off an endless dance of strobing lights._

_"I disagree," mumbled the raven._

_Kendall hiccupped, then snickered stupidly as he stroked Carlos' cheek with his thumb. "Hey, Carlos, there's something I've wanted to tell you for some time now."_

_Carlos sighed. "Kendall, can you please let me go? I–"_

_"But it's really important."_

_"Seriously, we need to go home–"_

_"I just want to fucking tell you something," growled the blonde. _

_The raven, stunned, asked in a timid voice, "What?"_

_Silence overwhelmed them for a few seconds. Then Kendall smiled, big and taunting. "I. Love. You, Carlos. So," he hiccupped again, "so fucking much."_

_Carlos blinked, voice slightly cracking, "What?" He let the key fall, landing soundlessly on the carpet by his feet._

_"I fucking love you so much, Carlos," reiterated Kendall, licking his lips. "Do you want me to show you how much I love you?" The raven's eyes widened when one of Kendall's hands slid down his inner thigh, and stopped between his legs, firmly squeezing there._

_Carlos gasped, earning a satisfied chuckle from the blonde. He bit his lip, eyes shining with surprise, but voice wavering when he spoke, "Do you really mean it?"_

_"Would I ever lie to you?"_

_"Um, no–"_

_Kendall slapped his other hand over Carlos' mouth. "Jesus, Carlos, you talk a lot. How about you fucking shut up for once." Then he gave the Latino a dark and twisted half smirk. "Now, behave like the good little Carlitos you are, and do what Kenny says so he can show you how much he loves you, okay?"_

_After those words, Carlos spoke no more, his blood running cold when Kendall kissed his shoulder._

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**A/N:** Yes, I know it's short. And the plot's pretty succinct, also.

Anyhow, thanks for reading, all you lovely people. Hope you enjoyed!


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